


Despite Me, For You

by 39_owari



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Asexuality, He does it because he loves him..., Jearmin Week, Jearmin Week day 3: Dishonesty, M/M, dubcon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-15
Updated: 2014-07-15
Packaged: 2018-02-08 21:43:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,814
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1957161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/39_owari/pseuds/39_owari
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><b><br/><span class="u">Jearmin Week | Day 3 | Dishonesty</span><br/></b><br/>[The matter of the fact on the type of person he actually was left him feeling almost guilty, and so when Jean asked, Armin lied. ]<br/>Jean x asexual!Armin</p>
            </blockquote>





	Despite Me, For You

**Author's Note:**

> I've been meaning to write this, and this theme was the perfect opportunity.   
>  I've done two submissions for 'dishonesty'   
>  [this pic](http://39-owari.tumblr.com/image/91854496358) is a reference to this story   
>  I hope enjoyment is found in this,,,

       The bedroom, Armin learned, was the embodiment of all of his worries mashed in a close proximity that was enough to render him breathless. If he wasn’t sleeping in it, his anxiety got the best of him and often times, he’d avoid being in it (if possible). And he had done so for the past year since he moved in with Jean. It appeared his luck had run out though—when he tried for the exit as soon as Jean returned from his crap paying job at the record store—only for the taller to block the doorway. If someone placed a stethoscope against Armin’s chest, they would require a hearing aid after; his heart was beating so loud, he wondered if the other could hear it too. His worried azurite eyes began eyeing the few posters and Polaroid pictures on the wall to the right of him; they looked so normal together in them, it was a shame that they were actually so different from each other.  Jean heaved a loud groan, crossing his arms and giving the shorter his best uncompromising stare. He was doing a great job, actually.

“Arm…if something about me is bothering you so much, just spit it out.” Armin quickly averted his attention back onto the brunet, shaking his head briskly. No…he didn’t want the other to feel as though he did something wrong. It wasn’t Jean, it was _him._ You see, what Jean thought he signed up for—Armin was certain—was a ‘typical’ relationship; what he got instead was a boy who lacked something that most perceived as _fundamental_ in a ‘healthy’ one: a sex drive. The blond was a romantic at heart; he did enjoy things like cuddling and kissing, but in terms of _sex_ , he found it…well, a bit off-putting. The _worst_ part was,

Jean didn’t know he was dating an asexual.

Armin graduated as valedictorian of his class; he was exceptionally gifted with knowledge well beyond his years. But for whatever godforsaken reason, he allowed the homoromantic part of him to take over on the matter of being with Jean; he did all that he could _romantically_ to get him to stay. He could see now that his dishonesty about himself was coming to collect its long overdue payment. It ultimately (and unsurprisingly) began to affect his affair with the older male more and more as he began to run out of excuses.

“It’s not…I’m just…I suppose I’m still easily self-conscious around people…I like?” The younger managed, nervously. He mentally slapped himself for still avoiding the real issue. He mentally slapped himself again when Jean accepted this answer with a lopsided grin (he almost wished he would call him out already). His face flushed with embarrassment at the strange yelp that came out of his mouth as the taller male pushed him onto their bed. Oh. _Oh no._ He quickly tried to sit up, only for one of his hands to be held down against the fluffy pale green cover and the feeling of wandering violation on one side of his bony hip.

“Wa-wait, Jean!”

“Ugh, is it weird that I still find you as cute as you were in high school? I just wanna eat you. Maybe…” Jean’s smile was still crooked, although less bright and growing more hungry, as he peppered light kisses along the blond’s thin neck, “…maybe just a little.”  Armin’s breath caught in his throat as the pecks grew more intense, leaving an uncomfortable prickling trail on the skin there. There was always a contradicting dynamic that played loudly in his brain in the moments that become too intimate for his liking: he wanted to scream it right there, to out himself and get it over with but times like these he was most afraid to say that he didn’t feel in the same way that Jean did. The fear that settled in the pit of his stomach was not of lack of acceptance; rather, it was the fear of the lack of acknowledgement. He couldn’t bear someone telling him that his sexuality—or absence of—didn’t exist. To Armin, that would hurt more than someone patronising his asexuality solely out of spite (as that was the case with some other aces, he learned). And especially by someone as special to him as Jean, he wasn’t sure if he was ready for whatever reaction would come.

He felt it surfacing, the blood. The stinging worsened when the larger decided to suck even harder on the skin and Armin couldn’t help but wonder if his intent was to deliberately draw the liquid from beneath the surface, out. He groaned as the ache hit him hard, feeling heavy on the left side of his neck. Marked by his truly beloved who lied parallel on the spectrum from himself; it truly felt sardonic. He was grateful Jean decided to kiss him on the mouth next as opposed to reprising the action.

“Armin…” a hint of desperation and a tsp of beseeching desire, the taller’s voice was throaty and it left the younger recalling the times that he was the cause of his boyfriend being stuck blue-balled and left to relieve himself in their bathroom at 3 in the morning. Despite himself, he did want Jean to feel good. The matter of the fact on the type of person he actually was left him feeling almost guilty, and so when Jean asked, Armin lied.

“This alright with you, Arm?” The urge to flinch out of reflex was bitten back when he noticed his shirt was being slowly pushed up as the question lingered between them. Armin hesitated

 _‘No, this isn’t what I want—but for him I’ll…’_ he thinks as his mental dilemma begins. He wore a worried expression on his face as he nodded slowly. He was biting back so hard.

“Uh, i-it’s fine…” The response was wavering.  Jean pulls away from the second kiss he placed on the other’s lips, grinning.

“You’re not going to run away this time?”

“..N-no…” There was a split second before Armin realised that he couldn’t take back the words.

 

* * *

 

 

He half expected Jean to fuck him senseless against the bed; quick and desperate…

       Instead, the other male took his time to admire the lithe body beneath him, removing articles of clothing slowly while being thoroughly fascinated by each new inch of pale skin revealed.  Armin felt as his breathing grew more uneven—torn between hitches and exhalations. He almost wished that Jean had been that blunt and got it over with since this seemed to drag on much longer than he was comfortable with. As rough palms slide along the sides of his now bare chest, he prayed to whatever was out there to be swallowed up by the large mattress. Perhaps due to his lack of faith, his prayers were left unheard as he was again greeted by hot trails on his skin, this time they headed south. The prickling it left ghosting on the surface was enough to make the blond whine aloud. Heavy lids lifted revealing licentious hazel-colored eyes directed towards the noise; Jean was satisfied with how well he was reducing Armin to a state at which he never had the chance to witness. He bit at the protruding bone that was Armin’s hip, completely unaware of what he was doing to the other. The walls that Armin constructed so well around himself were crumbling more with every ounce of the older male’s physical affection. But he chose to play the role of a doll, ignore himself and lying for the sake of seeing his lover so thoroughly pleased. He was normal (so often assured by the internet), but sometimes he didn’t feel that way. At the very least, he wanted to feel some ‘normalcy’ between them as a couple. It grew tiresome at how different they were.

The blond tried to focus on the pain he applied to his wrist, biting it hard as he felt himself being opened up in the worst way possible. Jean whispered apologies through a husky voice while he took his time in prepping the younger into full-blown uncomfortableness. Armin’s body was inept as far as feeling anything other than _awkward_ and _uncomfortable_ with such stimulation. After about ten minutes, Jean sat upright, tugging the other roughly by the hips, pulling him closer to himself as he sat outside the most prohibited entrance he likely will ever come upon. He didn’t realise how lucky he was that, in this moment, it was permissible—albeit aversely on Armin’s part.

“It’s fine now..?” The brunet asked and the hopefulness in his voice was enough to cause the smaller’s heart to ache because he wished he wanted this as much as Jean did…be he didn’t. Still, he managed to muster up the courage to nod his head at the man between his legs.

Jean didn’t hesitate.

Slowly enfolded by the heat he’s waited for for so long, the older pulls one of the other’s hands forward so that he can kiss every inch of it while he tries to find a slow rhythm to work with. Armin’s other hand is over his own mouth, his whimpering was muffled by the sounds of the creaking bed and soft grunting of the deeper voice within minutes. He’s blinded by the tears that well up in his beautiful blue eyes, blinded by his love of the other male and it’s these things that remind him that he’s still like other people—he still _does_ feel…being an ace didn’t hinder him emotionally. Jean noticed the crying and took it upon himself to kiss the blond’s eyes, assuring him to the best of his ability. For a second, Armin ignored the strange and painful pushing and pulling inside of him, so that he could kiss the brunet with equal meaning when Jean pulled his hand from his mouth so that their lips could meet. He may have basically lied and made himself out to be the same as Jean, but his heart was honest from the start.

Armin held onto the older’s neck tightly while he tried to focus on the ceiling with bleary eyes, waiting for his lover to reach the high he knew the man desired. With every thrust and whispered nothings…it felt like forever, but it at least gave him the time and push he needed in order to finally will himself out of his mental apprehension. Not that it wasn’t already, but it became more clear to him that Jean’s love for him was not one dictated solely on the physical aspects of their relationship. Armin smiled at this. 

A pact was made in the center of all his worry; he told himself that come tomorrow, he’ll be honest with Jean. There was hope for the spectrums to coexist.

**Author's Note:**

> I myself am an asexual (although not sex-repulsed if its other people that's not me),,,so I tried to write this without getting _too_ in depth with the, erm, sex aspect. I hope this was OK. Thank you if you read to this point!


End file.
